The Reason Why
by giacinta
Summary: Some time after his wife's death, John goes to consult a psychic, namely Missouri Mosely, who tells him what he wants to know and so changes his life forever. One-shot.


The Reason Why.

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John flicked back the unruly lock of black hair that had fallen annoyingly over his eyes. He had meant to pay a visit to the barber's shop but since Mary had died that night, more than two months ago, he had let everything go to hell.

The only thing keeping him from a complete breakdown was his boys; even if the strain of taking care of a five-year old and a baby who had still to celebrate his first birthday, combined with all the stress he was undergoing trying to understand just why Mary had died in that god awful impossible way burning on the ceiling, was beginning to overwhelm him.

X

He had stayed on in Lawrence; he needed the money from his job at the garage to take care of his kids.

Truth was, John knew he was only managing to cope because of the help from a neighbouring couple who had taken pity on the tragic widower with the two beautiful children, and offered him a temporary roof over his head, though he understood he couldn't impose on them for ever.

He would have to come up with another solution but he didn't want to leave Lawrence just yet; he was becoming more and more obsessed in finding a logical explanation for what had happened to his wife. He had been the only one to see her hanging there on the ceiling; by the time the fire had been doused there was nothing left to see.

His beautiful, vibrant Mary had become just a pile of grey ashes.

He felt the hatred gnaw at his heart as he contemplated what he would do if he ever found out there was a person responsible for causing her death.

X

John had always been a sensible down to earth kind of guy; an ex-marine, and the idea that there might be anything unnatural about his wife's demise was difficult to believe but he hadn't been able to deny the evidence.

Hanging burning from a ceiling in defiance of the laws of gravity was_** not**_ normal and that's why he was standing at the door of a so-called psychic that had been recommended to him by a half-drunk guy that had come rolling into the motor-shop to pick up his old banger. He had sworn she was the real thing and that she could tell you things that were impossible for her to know.

Up until that moment John hadn't even considered it might be anything to do with the occult; he had figured it to be more a freak accident of physics, but he hadn't been able to explain Mary's death satisfactorily, so here he was; about to knock on the door of a certain Missouri Mosley, Psychic!

X

He gave a quick look back at his car. He could see Dean gazing out at him from the back seat where he had left him with a sleeping Sammy.

Since his mom had died the child had become silent, caring about nothing except his baby brother.

He stuck to him like glue, and John let him be. Sammy seemed to take comfort when his brother was near, cuddling him on the couch or holding the bottle as the baby happily chugged down his milk.

He turned back to the door, still hesitant about consulting a so-called psychic but hell, he had come this far, he was just as well hearing what she had to say.

X

"Come right in John. I was wondering when you would show up on my doorstep, and here you are," the woman said as she opened the door to his knock.

Although the words were welcoming enough, John could detect an almost sorrowful undertone to her voice.

"You know who I am?" he asked, taken aback.

"Yes John, I know".

She glanced beyond him at the black Impala parked at the end of her drive-way, where the pale face of a child was staring back at her.

"That's Dean, I believe. Looking out for little Sammy. Yeah, that's about right," she added almost fondly.

John's emotions were in a turmoil; he didn't know whether to get angry at the woman for knowing about his affairs or admire her 'psychic' insights, but he followed her docilely enough as she led the way towards the interior of the house.

X

"Take a seat, John," she ordered as if he were a kid. "I'll make you some coffee, strong an' black, just like you prefer."

"Listen, lady," John burst out. "I didn't come here for coffee!"

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. "I don't even _**know**_ why I'm here, other than some drunk told me you were the real deal. So let's cut to the chase. My wife died a couple of months ago in strange….."

"I know, John. She was pulled onto the ceiling and set alight.," Missouri interrupted, her voice full of sympathy. "That's why you came to see me. You want an explanation. Well, you've come to the right place, 'cos I can give you one."

"How….!"

"I _**am**_ the real deal, John. A true psychic, although most of the folks who come to my door would probably be scared out their wits if they knew. They probably think I'm just good at faking. It's easier for most people to accept that.

But you're not just 'most people' are you John? You really want to know, but I gotta warn you; there will be consequences. You're at a crossroads, John, depends what you decide right here, right now; either discovering the truth or turning your ass around; going back to your kids and getting on with your life.

Yours is the choice, John. But if you decide you want the truth, your life will change forever and that of your children too."

X

It wasn't often that John Winchester was at a loss for words, but it was difficult for him to get his mind round what this apparently ordinary woman was telling him. His life would change forever, his boys too. Just what could be so momentous?

She stood silently,waiting. No more information was forth-coming.

She had said he must decide but John already knew what his answer would be. He _**had**_ to know.

"I want to understand, " he said, so condemning himself and his children to a life of Hunting. " I need to know why."

X

Missouri sighed. She had known what his answer was going to be, yet a small part of her had hoped he would have risen from her chair and chosen to go out to his kids, leaving things as they were.

Her heart was heavy for the two innocents sitting in the car outside, but their destiny was already written and she could do nothing else but play her role.

She sat down at the little table.

X

"It was a demon, John; a real, live, out of Hell, black-hearted demon."

X

XXXX The enD XXXX


End file.
